The Beauty Has Faded

Woe is me. I mean, woe is us. Easter is late this year, and the azaleas will be past blooming.

It's a tradition in our church (and many others) to decorate our outdoor cross with flowers each Easter. By mid-March, azaleas are in full bloom. The dogwood trees are covered with white blooms that time of year. A few camellias also remain. It's a glorious sight. The flowering cross speaks eloquently of the new life we find as Christians in the

events surrounding the first Easter.

This year, with Easter nearly as late as possible, what flowers will we bring? There will be no azaleas, their blooms having long since faded. The dogwoods will have green leaves, not white flowers. I expect no remaining camellias. Early on Easter morning, what will we cover the cross with that can adequately represent the beauty of what Jesus did by his sacrificial death on those cruel timbers?

Plastic flowers surely will be an afront. Greenery with no blooms seems to fall far short. In my experience, I know that there will indeed be something in bloom. God always supplies.

Even without flowers, the cross has an incredible beauty. The incredible love of Christ, who chose to pay a penalty for sin inherent in us all, is marvelous beyond words. I'd gladly stand with my family, in our lovely Easter attire, before a bare cross to have pictures taken, to commemorate the special day. Because of Jesus' crucifixion and resurrection, I have been given eternal life. That life has already begun, and I'm thankful every day for the narrow way on which God leads. Accepting Jesus' death on the cross as payment for my sins turned my life right side up.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." John 3:16